Duval Dirtbag

The Stray

Chapter 43 - Intentions (Nanites)

Michael tried to slow his breathing. Linnet holding his arms was too much. He wrenched himself from her grip, stood up and practically ran away. He ran straight to his room and threw himself on his bed. He curled into a ball. Wallowing in his sadness. When he caught his breath, he opened his eyes and saw Bill.

“Hey Stranger.” Bill said without pity or empathy. “Been a while.”

Michael sat up. “Hey.” He wiped his eyes and sniffled.

“I think it’s time to get outta here.” Bill declared.

“Man, I’m not in the mood.”

“Nope. I know that look. Change clothes. It’s time to get out of here.”

“We can’t just...” Michael gasped.

“We can do whatever we want, Mikey.” Bill assured him.

“Is something up, Bill?”

“The only thing that needs to be up, right now, is bottoms.” Bill said, making a drinking gesture.

“Ok, sure thing, Dude.” Michael replied. They cleaned up and headed out. With a brief wave at the Pack, which was mostly ignored, they got into Michael’s car and headed off the base.

Bill kept his eyes out the passenger window while he asked, “The fuck was that about?”

“The uh,” Michael stuttered, “With the tears?”

“Niagara Falls, Mikey.”

“Was it that much?” Michael asked. Bill murmured an affirmative. “Oh, well, you know how you and Fala were a thing and then you weren’t?”

Bill answered that quickly, “Dropped off like the trash.”

Michael winced, “Well, it seems we’re in the same club.”

Bill swerved quickly in the passenger seat to look directly at Michael, “You were crying over a bitch?”

“A bitch?” Michael gasped. “No, she was lovely all the way until she wasn’t.”

Bill shook his head. “Mikey, Mikey, Mikey, we’ve been fucking alien dog women. Lady dogs.” Bill rubbed at his temples with both hands. “Bitches, Mikey.”

Michael sighed deeply and kept his eyes on the road. The sun had set just enough for the automatic headlights to come on. “Bitches, huh?” He nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.” He thought some more, I’ve had my heart broken by women before. Was this a harder breakup than my decade long marriage?

“Did you love her?” Bill asked solemnly.

“Well,” Michael hesitated. “I didn’t love Bel’a, but we sure played piano.”

“With those bodonhonkaroos, I’m proud of you for shooting your shot.”

“Yeah, that was fun, I guess.” Michael exited off of the main road after they’d crossed the Buckman Bridge. “But did I love her? I don’t know.” He looked out his window more to see his reflection than to see anything else. He sighed deeply before continuing. “I loved how she saw me. She helped me see that I wasn’t as bad a person as I was made to think I was.”

“Bitches begotten by bitches, Mikey.” Bill adjusted his seatbelt away from his neck. “You know what won’t hurt you like a woman?”

Michael furrowed his brows.

Bill responded flatly. “Beer.”

“I guess.” Michael agreed as he slowed the car into a parking space.

It was a short drive to Falsetto Friars. Once inside they heard complaints from the regulars.

“Again with the weather? This is the second hurricane his year! We never get hit.” A male voice bellowed whiningly. “I wanna get back to the game!”

Bill and Michael glanced at the weather map of Florida and the spinner with its cone of probability. Bill read the name “Blake” got Micheal’s attention. Bill pointed to an open table and said “Bortles”.

The pair sidled up to the table and Michael continued the conversation he had been meditating on for a while. “Is this what the military is like?”

“What do you mean? I told you at some point that you’d become an alcoholic living with me.”

“No.” Michael thought for a moment. “No? Yes?” He thought about it a bit more and decided to take a run at his thoughts from another angle. “I mean, I’m in fucking space.” He gave a wave toward the ceiling. Then, more solemnly, “And I’m looking at rocks.” His eyes turned blank as he reflected on the sassiness of his teammate Sam, who knew what they were doing with the equipment while Michael did not. “I’m no geologist. I’m no bounty hunter. What the fuck am I doing up there?”

“You’re doing your patriotic duty. You’re helping defend your nation. Your world.” Bill looked around at the array of humanoids in the bar; several of whom he knew they had interviewed on the base. He tipped his stein to a few of them then turned to Michael almost conspiratorially. “Your species.” He saw Michael’s spirits were still down. “Bro, you’re a fucking hero!”

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Michael dismissed this platitude. “I sure don’t feel like a hero.”

Bill quaffed his beer. “No?”

Michael took a sip, but mostly watched the head of his beer bubble. “I feel like I’m doing busywork. Like I’m wasting time. Or I’m taking up time until someone else decides what to do with me.”

“Could be. Could be.” Bill pondered while ordering another drink. “But it’s the intention behind it that’s important.” Bill purposefully rolled his irises all the way around the frame of his eye sockets. “The intention of it is to protect your people. That’s the military. That’s what it’s like.”

Michael scoffed.

Bill continued. “You know I’ve told you that there were really cool times, like when I was dropped in the middle of nowhere without a map and had to survive my way back to civilization. That was cool.” He thanked the waitress and took a hearty sip of his new drink. Then he looked Michael in his eyes. “But there was a lot of down time. A lot of time for me to think about my daughter. A lot of time for me to think about what I’d rather be doing.” Bill blinked slowly, “And right now bro, I’d rather be here with you.”

I wouldn’t. Michael thought sadly. He finished his drink as fast as he could. “Me too, bro. Me too.” He needed a break. “That said, I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

Michael had to think about how many drinks he had had, but that was hard to do when the path to the bathroom was so wavy. The bar had filled up a bit since they’d first arrived. One of the waitresses was belting out Black Velvet. The whole room seemed to vibrate with the music. His head vibrated with it. He made it into the bathroom and the half stall to pee. He went to the sink and washed his hands. The Michael in the mirror swayed a little with the music. He dried his hands. That’s when he smelled the soap. It smelled familiar. He flashed back to his grandparents’ house.

“I’LL DECK YOU OLD MAN!” Michael remembered his uncle yelling at his grandfather. He was instantly soberer. He thought about the person who tied him to these two family members who were willing to go toe to toe: his mother. The weight of his mother wanting him to help her struck him like a ton of bricks. There was no longer a grandfather. No longer an uncle. They’d both passed. There was no longer a father. You have to be the adult, Michael. You have to face the world and make big decisions. Not only for yourself but for others. For mom. For the kids. What would work best for everyone?

Michael shook himself out of it and left the bathroom. Bill was already ordering more drinks. Michael decided that he agreed with that notion, he needed to think less. As he was ordering, though, he asked the waitress about the soap.

She shrugged and guessed, “Dial? Is that a good thing?”

“I guess.” Michael replied. “It smells like what my grandparents had in their bathroom.”

The waitress squinted at Michael then looked at Bill. Bill shrugged. “Cool.” The waitress answered and walked away with their new orders.

Michael took a deep breath and tried to take his mind off of his worries and asked, “What’re you doing nowadays? I told you that they’ve got me looking at rocks. What’ve they got you doing?”

“Training new recruits.” Bill replied. “Mostly Human. Mainly feeding them the Shil’vati propaganda.” He thought about what he’d just said about intentions. “I don’t love it. I mean, I was an American soldier. We were the shit. Then we weren’t. Overnight. I guess if my options are feeding young people the story that the Shils want me to tell them or to be dead; well, I guess they can wind me up like their little story monkey.” He proceeded to mechanically hit imaginary cymbals together. He then leaned in toward Michael. “But hey better to both know your enemy and keep your enemies close.”

Michael had barely finished his drink when Bill ordered shots. “What the hell, Bill?” Bill smirked and chuckled menacingly. His small glass smacked the table before Michael could even grab his. Bill was already waving his arms to get the waitress’ attention again. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

Bill stood up and adjusted his pants then sat back down. He looked at Michael even more seriously. He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and flexed his forearm.

“Hey look! No more Batman scar.” Michael said. “That was fun. I’m glad that healed nicely.”

“You remember how you all found out I have cancer?”

“Yeah, seems like Fala outed you.” Michael remembered. “Silly medical professionals.”

“Silly medical professionals indeed.” Bill murmured back. “I don’t have it anymore.”

“Well that’s great!”

“Yes, thank you.” Bill ordered another drink. When it arrived, he lifted his stein and Michael cheered him with his shot glass. They drank and Bill continued. “No signs of the diabetes that was creeping up on me.”

Michael nodded in agreement. “Good news all.”

“The soreness in my back from years in the military, the IED that threatened to kill me, all of my physical ailments: gone.”

“Holy shit! That’s amazing!”

“Nanites.” Bill said dully.

“Oh right, the nanites they put in you when they took out the knife!” Michael exclaimed. “Do you think they did all that?”

“I suspect they did.” Bill said, looking at Michael through the foamy bottom of his now empty drink. “There’s only one catch.”

“What’s that?” Michael asked.

“I can’t get drunk.”

“Well I guess you’re driving us back then, Bill.” Michael smirked drunkenly.

Bill put on the biggest fake smile he could and gave Michael the fakest laugh and nods. “Hmeh heh heh, I guess I will.” He straightened back up. “Fuuuck. Do you know what it’s like to have this constant inner monologue with no way to stop it?”

“You hearing voices, Bill?” Michael joked.

“Not like that, it’s my brain. It keeps going.”

“Yeah, I know exactly what that’s like. Have you considered it might be your conscience? Your inner voice that helps you determine right from wrong?”

Bill hmmed an agreement. “You mean thinking before you do a thing?”

“Uh huh.” Michael agreed.

“That’s not the kind of thinking that got me where I am.”

“No shit, Bill.” Michael laughed. “Hey did you know that I met the voice of my self conscience?”

“No shit?”

“No shit. It was my ex-wife’s grandfather.”

“No shit!?” Bill exclaimed.

“Yeah, he and I were sitting together one time and I thought a thing, then he said it.” Michael reminisced. “From then on, I paid attention to the voice in my head and his voice. Sometimes they agreed and sometimes they didn’t, but I’d been hearing his voice in my head since I was about five years old.”

“What do you do with this inner voice?”

“I usually look at a situation, like the beer in front of me.” Michael looked at his half full beer, then he looked at Bill. “And my good friend.” He grabbed the handle of his stein. “Do I finish this drink knowing that I’ll get more intoxicated and my good friend won’t?” He swirled the drink in its glass.

“Well, what’s the voice telling you to do?” Bill asked.

Michael smiled. “It says, ‘Fuck it. He’s driving anyway.’”

Bill laughed with a halfhearted “Fuck you.” Michael laughed, finished his drink and looked at Bill. He looked around the bar. It was full of people who were trying to have a good time. Many of them were. Michael was trying to have fun too, but he realized that he might as well enjoy this time out with Bill. It was likely going to be the last time they’d get this opportunity.